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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22862464">Opening the Cell Doors</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi'>ChokolatteJedi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e15 Deceptive Little Parasite, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Pain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2017-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2017-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:47:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22862464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer opens himself up to the sword.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Opening the Cell Doors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Not the anger. The pain.</i>
</p><p>“So you think you’ve figured it out?” came the ever-helpful skepticism from Amenadiel. Honestly, it was like no one believed him even though he NEVER lied!</p><p>“Yes,” he sighed.</p><p>“And you’re sure. <i>This</i> time.” And there was the doubting Mum half of the double act. Yet again believing that he wasn’t up to the- arg! Lucifer tried to calm himself with the reminder that this was all just more fuel for the sword.</p><p>“Just… let me do it, Mum, please.” He managed not to add aloud the unspoken, “before I lose my nerve.”</p><p>Lucifer spun away from them and held up the knife, wanting nothing more than to drop it. After repeatedly stabbing his brother with it in hell, Lucifer never wanted to feel its weight in his hand again. In front of Mum and Amenadiel he had shoved that emotion away, locked it down tightly with everything else, but apparently he had to open those floodgates now.</p><p>Pain, the Doc had said. <i>”The only way to get over that pain, is to go through it.”</i> Lucifer had spent aeons refusing to go through his pain, keeping it locked away so tightly that he could pretend it didn’t exist. But now he had to let it free. Wade through it. Let it spill out into the sword. Lucifer had to stop lying to himself.</p><p>Because the truth was that he had enough pain to fuel a thousand swords. Images, moments, memories, flashes of conversations spun through his mind as he opened their cell door. They raced through him, filling his veins with ice that cut worse than the blade.</p><p>
  <i>The judgement from Father.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Mum’s neutral gaze as she watched Michael drag him to the portal.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Falling through the flaming doors without his former divine protection, the screaming fires of hell rending the flesh from his form and creating his devilish side.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>His mum’s face as he silently watched Mazikeen torture her.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Covering Mazikeen’s essence with his own so that she could accompany him through the flaming doors and shielding her from the brunt of the punishment.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A demonic blade, sawing through his wing joints as hot tears dripped onto his neck.</i>
</p><p><i>Amenadiel’s taunts and threats and constant repetition that somehow Lucifer </i>deserved<i> to suffer in Hell.</i></p><p>
  <i>Dropping onto Chloe to protect her from the rest of the gunfire, desperately hoping that it would be enough.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>That frightening, mystifying moment when Chloe shot him and it hurt. He bled. The terror of wondering if that signalled his end.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Smiling smugly at Amenadiel even as his burning wings tore through his very being in their effort to avoid destruction. Refusing to admit why he had kept them after the first attempt, as even detached they still had a hold of him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Watching a priest bleed out; the latest of millions of humans to die with the vain hope that it was somehow meaningful and not the product of a neglectful, ambivalent creator.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Seeing another innocent killed in his bloody name.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Learning that his own brother actually wanted him dead. Not just back in Hell, but really, truly, dead.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Realizing that after everything, Chloe thought him capable of murder and deciding to let her just kill him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Thinking that there was no place left for him on Earth and sinking low enough to actually ask Amenadiel to return him to hell.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Shots firing, tearing through him, and a desperate prayer he had sworn to never make.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The answer, making him think that his mum would be seeking her revenge on him.</i>
</p><p><i>Learning that his father actually wanted him destroyed, wiped from all existence like he had never been created in the first place. Learning that Hell was apparently something he was supposed to be </i>grateful<i> for. And the momentary belief that maybe it would have been better if Dad had gotten his way.</i></p><p>
  <i>Taking the blame for Amenadiel’s falling, for their family targeting Chloe. Having to decide between his own mum and the woman he loved.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Almost losing Lux.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Learning of manipulation after manipulation and the brief moment of wondering if there was any minute of his existence that hadn’t been one long con.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Almost losing Chloe again.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Killing himself and returning to hell for her.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Uriel. Uriel Uriel Uriel Uriel a thousand times over in his mind and in hell and back in his mind. Waking up from a sleep he didn’t even technically need with a gurgling scream on his lips as he tried to stop his own hand from swinging.</i>
</p><p><i>Deciding to give up Chloe, to push aside his feelings and give her a </i>choice<i>.</i></p><p>
  <i>Making the rash decision to just let some schmuck strangle him if Chloe didn’t want him for her partner.</i>
</p><p>The sword lit, then flared, and for a moment Lucifer could feel it grow heavy in his hand as it gorged on his pain. It pulled his feelings from him, tieing a line to his soul in a way much like his wings once had. It burned, inside him, as though each painful memory he had dredged up was now lit on fire just like the sword.</p><p>And then, without warning, it flickered and died.</p><p>Lucifer couldn’t believe it. How could anyone have lived through that much pain and yet it was still not enough? Was this just another con? Making him feel all of this for nothing?</p><p>“That’s it? You must not be feeling enough!” His mum screeched.</p><p>Add another log to the fire, he scoffed bitterly.</p><p>“Trust me. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got!” He’d exposed every raw, painful moment in his ridiculously long existence to that bloody butter knife and it was still never enough.</p><p>“You have to try harder!” Mum insisted.</p><p>“What?” Lucifer didn’t think he could survive trying that again.</p><p>“TRY HARDER!”</p><p>“Mom, that’s enough!” The shock of Amenadiel supporting him against Mum almost made Lucifer stagger again, but if the opening of that cell door had taught him anything it was that he couldn’t trust anyone in his family to stand up for him without some ulterior motive. Amenadiel probably just wanted to get a lick in of his own.</p><p>“<i>I’m not broken</i>. The sword must be.” Lucifer said.</p><p>Somewhere in the back of his mind he assured himself that it wasn’t a lie, but a bluff. And maybe if he repeated it to himself enough times as he shoved every last feeling back into its cell, it might even become true.</p>
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